Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 155405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 777(@200wpm)___ 622(@250wpm)___ 518(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 777(@200wpm)___ 622(@250wpm)___ 518(@300wpm)
“He is not,” I mutter. “And you’re gross, just in case no one has ever told you.”
“This is why we’re going to get married someday,” he calls after me as I exit the library and start off down the hall.
I don’t waste an eyeroll since he wouldn’t see it, but ugh, he is the fucking worst.
At least my bladder finally gets some relief. I enjoy the moment of quiet before I head back downstairs, checking my phone and fixing my ugly yellow lipstick in the mirror before I leave the bathroom.
I didn’t turn on the upstairs lights since I didn’t want to draw attention to anyone being up here. A shiver of awareness travels down my spine as I glance down the long, dark hall toward the bedrooms.
During the day, this place is grand. But at night, it’s spooky as hell.
I turn the other way back toward the staircase and gasp as I run into the solid wall of Landon’s chest. My heart stops and my blood freezes in my veins. Cold fear starts at the nape of my neck and slithers down.
“What are you doing? No one’s supposed to be up here.”
“You’re up here,” he points out lazily.
I lick my lips, unconsciously moving a few steps back as he takes a slow step toward me. “Did you follow me?”
He tips his chin up. “What was that song you were singing?”
“What?”
“You were humming something in the bathroom.”
Was I?
I can’t remember. I also can’t think straight with him backing me down the dark hall, so I stop moving. “We have to go back downstairs.”
Not too bothered about what we’re supposed to do, apparently, he holds out a tiny bottle of liquor. “I got you a drink.”
I glance at it. It’s Macallan 12. “I don’t like whisky,” I tell him.
“No?” He shrugs, uncaps it, and throws it back. “More for me, then.”
I swallow as he caps the empty bottle and tosses it down the hall. I start as it hits the wood floor and rolls, emphasizing how quiet it is up here. “I think you’ve had enough,” I say gently.
“Have I?” He closes the distance between us, grabbing my shoulders and forcing me back against the wall.
I reach for the first lifeline I can think of. “Brittany has been following you around all night. She’s going to come looking for you.”
He smirks. “I could tell her to hold your fucking ankles for me and she would. I don’t give a fuck if she comes looking for me.”
I hate that my gaze drifts to his lips, but I find it lingering there, looking for any hint of change to the color. I didn’t try out the lipstick myself and I haven’t been paying attention to other people. I don’t know how dramatically the color changes when you kiss someone—I suppose it depends on the kiss—but I know Brittany is wearing yellow, just like me. Landon grabbed a blue, so if he kissed her tonight, there should be at least a hint of green, right?
It’s too dark in the hall to tell for sure, but I think his lips are blue.
Unconsciously, I lick mine and look up at him.
There’s heat in his eyes and alcohol in his veins, and that is a lethal combination.
I know I have to get him back downstairs before this can go bad, but my mind isn’t clear enough to think of a way out.
This feels too much like sophomore year when he got me alone in a dark room, but it feels different, too.
We’re older now.
And he has leverage he didn’t have back then.
I didn’t even know he wanted leverage over me back then. I didn’t know anything, and now I know more than I want to.
“We have to go downstairs,” I say. It’s not clever or compelling. It’s just what needs to happen.
Of course, Landon doesn’t have any fucks to give about what needs to happen.
Rather than see reason and follow me back downstairs, he looks me over slowly, like he has all the time in the world. He grabs the hem of my dress and I gasp as he drags it up, the cool air hitting my exposed thighs.
“Landon, stop.” I push the dress back down. He lets me, but only so he can grab my wrists and force them together above my head.
“Landon! I swear to god.”
He holds my wrists with one hand, then uses the other to lift my dress again.
“Don’t do this. I don’t want to have to…”
“What? Tell on me?” He smirks, leaning forward and using his muscular body to pin me against the wall. His hand roams over my hip, then teases the waistband of my panties before he lets a threatening finger push past the band to touch my bare flesh. “I don’t think you will, Parker. I think you like my dad. Not in a sick way, hopefully, but you definitely like the guy more than I fucking do. I can see it every time you talk to him. You get this excited glint in your eyes, like you’ve found a kindred spirit. You’re weird, so our world is probably a little lonely for you, huh? My dad’s an academic, too. Driven. Focused. You probably relate to him.” He lets go of my hip so he can drag his fingers along the curve of my jawline. “That’s all it is, right? You don’t have some kind of crush?”